


The Overture

by oisiflaneur



Series: Welcome to the Jungle [1]
Category: Show By Rock!! - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 10:44:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14042523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oisiflaneur/pseuds/oisiflaneur
Summary: Shuu has always known what he wants, even if he hasn't known how to get it.





	The Overture

**Author's Note:**

> another fic for kyne, who at this point i think is out to personally fund the romshuu renaissance. if anybody out there is good with oils, please contact them about painting their ceiling. this is part one of like three, and likely the cute calm before the smut storm. we'll see where the future takes us.
> 
> apparently it's been confirmed SOMEWHERE OUT THERE that rom and shuu went to high school together, so. you know i had to. that's one of my very favorite tropes. along with rocky breakups and freakin _love across time loops, oh my god show by rock you beautiful goddam mess_.
> 
>  **content warnings** are bullying, and some selfhate for acne… among other things, i guess. shuu is not a healthy young lad in any universe.
> 
> and hey, i have a sideblog just for writing now! it's [here](https://wordsyflaneur.tumblr.com/)! the old tag is [here](http://oisiflaneur.tumblr.com/tagged/graywrites) while i get everything moved over.

He regrets it now, but the truth of the matter is that Rom didn't even register on his radar when he first arrived.

Shuu had other things to worry about. He wasn't at school to _socialize_ , even if he jumped through those hoops when required. It wasn't as though he was going to pay attention to any roster changes in his class. Especially not with fewer and fewer months lying ahead for him to spend here.

So he chimed hello to the new students when he had to, then bent his head over his desk and got back to work. He'd assessed his options and decided sometime in second year that he could bluff his way through any situation where he was allowed to be physically present, and so thrown his focus behind how he looked on paper. Student council was for layabouts without any other skill to bolster their resume.

And valedictorian wasn't going to just land in his lap.

* * *

Luckily for him, Rom was difficult to ignore. Even then.

Not that Shuu was a sickly child, but he discovered early that carrying your own painkillers was looked down on by the administration. Popping a pill during math class to chase away his headache would have gotten him into a lot more trouble if he hadn't been so deft at dealing with the staff members. He got his wrist smacked, promised that he wasn't distributing any to the other children, and was told to store his medication where they could keep track of him.

So trips to the nurse's office are weekly; on a good week. The leadup to finals often sees him sneaking in during lunch break or between classes much more frequently. The nurse herself is rarely there -- underpaid and uninterested, it seems -- and so he learns to just help himself.

And so, it startles him slightly to close the door and turn around to find that the couch serving as a makeshift hospital bed is occupied.

"'Sup?" Says the boy, shifting to sit up, new tension making a straight line of his shoulders.

Shuu takes a moment to stare, taking in the blood dripping down his upper lip from his nose. It takes that long to decide that it's none of his business. "Just here for some analgesics."

"Some anal _whats?_ "

Ah. One of those. Turning away, Shuu opens the cabinet and grabs the bottle from the lowest shelf, unscrewing the lid with a few swift clicks. "The aspirins. I'll be gone in a minute."

The stranger seems to relax, easing back onto the pillows at the end of the couch. "Cool. Sorry, I just thought you might be one of the… Well. Doesn't matter."

After dry swallowing the pill, Shuu pauses for a moment to stare some more. Isn't this one in his class? They'll be worrying about graduation soon enough. It seems stunted, _elementary_ even, to still be getting in fistfights. What's he doing still getting into schoolyard brawls?

Apparently, he didn't realize that he said the last part aloud. The stranger bursts into a hearty laugh, flopping back on the chaise and showing off his teeth. "Hey, they were asking for it! Intimidating the freshmen like thugs. Gonna give us a bad name."

"Hmmm." Shuu grunts back noncommittally, finally closing the medicine cabinet with a _snap_. "Well, maybe just call a teacher over, next time."

All that earns him is an exaggerated eye roll. "Pffft, seriously? They don't get anything done." Wiping at the bottom of his nose, the other student sits up properly, looking Shuu up and down. "I'm Rom, by the way. You gonna introduce yourself, or just dash off all mysteriouslike?"

The latter is suddenly deeply tempting. In no small part because the hand that Rom is offering him for shaking is smeared with his own blood. But Shuu swallows his pride -- and disgust -- and grasps his fingers lightly. "Shuu. I think we have AP Econ together."

"Oooooh, yeah! You had a different hair color for a while."

Ah. That's his cue. "So, I have class now. Sorry. See you later."

* * *

It's hard to tell whether the black eye has blossomed from the last encounter, or if Rom has gotten into another scrap since their meeting.

It sparks his curiosity, that somebody would make such a useless sacrifice and be proud of it. Against his better judgment, he finds himself gravitating towards the boy's desk.

"Are you alright?" Shuu tries to ask quitely, without drawing attention to them, to ease in without putting him on edge. But Rom seems almost proud.

He just grins and leans back in his chair, ignoring the split in his lip that starts to drip red again. "Never better! Why you asking?"

"You, ah…" Shuu isn't sure how to respond. Finally, he settles for gesturing helplessly at the bruised skin around his eye. "You have a little something on your face."

"Oh, yeah. It's gonna be the newest trend."

For some reason, that actually gets Shuu to laugh. "I can show you some makeup tricks, if you want." The words are out of his mouth before he fully processes them, before he even knows why. 

Rom cants his head to the side and considers it for a moment, before grinning again and pointing up at him. "I'll take you up on that. It's gonna be hard to explain to the underclassmen. They're not buying the excuses anymore."

He wonders how often this happens for that to be a problem, but bites the question back.

* * *

Most of Shuu's expertise with a brush and powder leans more towards enhancing what he already has, not covering anything up. But, still, even future stars get pimples in high school. He has enough concealer and experience to cover Rom's blooming black eye and even some of the worse scratches on his cheek and knuckles.

He mumbles instructions the entire time, assuming that his subject is paying attention and won't need to be walked through the steps again.

Two thursdays later, Rom shows up on his doorstep after school, the doorbell startling Shuu from his studying.

There's a bruise all along the side of one jaw, with speckled indents that look like the texture of parking lot cement.

Shuu just sighs and stands aside in the doorway to let him in.

* * *

He's glad that Rom closed his eyes. It was getting unnerving to be just a few inches away and having his stare returned, even if it was less intent.

"You want me to get the spots, while I'm here?" Rom's skin is patterned with dots, but only about a fifth of them are zits. Amongst the darker clusters of freckles, and with the bruises to account for, the ones that are 'problems' are barely noticeable. But still, they're there, and while he's at it…

"Sure, I guess. Wait! No, that'll be way more obvious. Just cover up what's _not_ supposed to be there."

Matching his cosmetics kit to Rom's skin tone is a challenge. Aside from the obvious difference in tan, Rom's veins are cool, and all of his products are for his own warm undertone. But Shuu manages to make what he has on hand work, for now.

That weekend, he picks up a few cheap bottles from the department store. Just in case.

* * *

He'd assumed that was the end of things. For all his other talents, he's terrible at being genuine, and he's well aware. The previous invitation had taken enough out of him.

But, for whatever reason, it seems that Rom isn't just using him.

Trailing after him once the final bell rings becomes an almost regular thing. Never scheduled, and Shuu often finds himself unlocking the front door completely alone as usual; but a few afternoons per week, Rom will follow him home and sprawl on the floor with his books and pencils.

Somewhat to Shuu's surprise, the other boy actually does do his homework. Their only overlap is economics and math, but it becomes habit to quiz each other the afternoon before a test. Rom even corrects him on more than one occasion.

* * *

Apparently, he's the only one who doesn't actually like field trips.

Speaking frankly, they're a waste of time. The planning, the transit, even the event itself. He'd rather be at his desk, getting more of his work out of the way.

The fact that their trips this year have all been to offices and factories doesn't help. The seniors get to go to _movies_ and _brunches_ as a class to celebrate their upcoming freedom, while he's still stuck in the stages where he isn't considered to have earned that yet. The stages of being prepared for "the real world".

As though there's _any_ reality where he'd end up working at a sewage treatment plant.

So, he hangs back, and tries not to sulk too blatantly while the rest of the students point and laugh at used condoms stuck in the filters, or ask the guide about baby alligators.

"Hey," Rom elbows him, trying to hide a smirk. "This trip stinks in just about every way, huh."

Shuu grunts irritably. "You can say that again." The whole affair can't be over soon enough.

At least Rom is having slightly more fun. He hovers near the back of the group as well, but he also perks up visibly when the guide mentions the pay grades. "Huh. That's pretty good, actually. You know, maybe a job like this wouldn't be so bad."

Shuu doesn't bother suppressing the scoff that slips out of him. "Fat chance. Come work for me, instead."

It earns a laugh and a slapping pat on the back, and Rom seems to forget about it completely. But the idea latches on at the back of Shuu's mind.

* * *

There is at least one upside to field trips: he gets to sit next to Rom on the schoolbus there and back. It's almost worth the waste of an afternoon to have his chin tucked up on his shoulder, dozing on the return drive.

* * *

"Hey, do you like Grateful King?"

Shuu's head snaps up at the name, his eyes widening a fraction before he catches himself and his expression slides towards neutrality. "Well, of course. Who doesn't?" 

"His next tour is actually stopping in the city!" Rom leans towards him, lowering his voice considerably. "I've been saving up for ages, but I figured… Y'know, it'll be more fun to get nosebleeds and be there with somebody I know, instead of being down in the pit all alone."

After a moment to process it, Shuu stares at him again. "You would buy _me_ a ticket, too?"

"Of course, dude! We're friends, aren't we?"

That night, he does the calculations, and decides that he can cut into his savings for a few hundred dollars. It's not an everyday thing, not even an every _year_ thing… So long as he doesn't make a habit of it, he should be fine.

He purchases passes for the both of them, right down by the stage.

* * *

The line stretches nearly around the block. No longer truly winter and not yet quite spring, Shuu had thrown a puffy jacket over his hoodie just in case, and now he's watching Rom try not to shiver in just a shirt.

"Here." He scoffs with what he hopes is an appropriately detached roll of his eyes, turning away before Rom has the chance to argue with him. "If you get sick after this, you'll never want to go out again." He might even have to spend a few days in quarantine, leaving Shuu alone for his homework sessions.

Unfolding his arms through the sleeves, he tilts his head slightly. "What about you?" 

Shuu winks and grins, puffing up his chest. "I'm made of stronger stuff than that." Deflating with a laugh, he yanks the hood of his sweatshirt up, and hopes that it hides the burning in his cheeks. "And I've got this, dumbass."

Inside, the heat of so many bodies packed into one space has both of them peeling off their outer layers. Shuu tucks his hoodie under one arm; he'd rather die than be seen with it tied around his waist. It means that they each have only one hand free.

Rom tangles their fingers together loosely: his ring and pinky hooked over Shuu's respective digits. It's not quite holding hands, but it's not tugging at his sleeve, either. "Come on! I don't want to lose you!" He shouts over both his shoulder and the din as he pulls Shuu closer to the stage.

When the lights go down and the first chords reverberate through the stadium, he squeezes his palm one last time before dropping it to throw his fists up and scream along with every other soul in the venue.

It takes a moment for Shuu to realize that that includes him.

Something other than his companion grabs hold of him: reaches straight through his ribcage and wraps itself around his heart. He can swear that it's beating in time to the bassline.

* * *

He hasn't seen the sky for nearly four full hours by the time they shuffle free of the masses streaming through the doors. The sun has vanished completely, and it's not much brighter on the sidewalk than it was in the venue.

Rom doesn't seem to notice, hopping in place almost nonstop as he keeps pace next to Shuu. "God, that was great. Wasn't that great? I can't believe how great that was!"

"It was," Shuu says distractedly, almost dreamily. The world seems crisper around the edges somehow, more intense, and the few stars visible past the halo of city lights seem brighter than usual. This might just be the best night of his life.

So far, of course. But now the bar will be that much higher.

"So, what was your favorite song?" Hands laced behind his back, Rom has started walking backwards to stay facing him, grin still plastered across his face. "Personally, I liked the encore. And _you_ wanted to leave early!" His skin is dotted with sweat, and he's practically panting. Despite its size, the stadium had gotten chokingly hot by the end of the set, and it might take the entire walk to the metro for Rom to cool down.

"I didn't want to get separated in the rush to leave." Is the dry response. "Which we almost did."

"Whatever, man. Totally worth it. I was hoping all night that he'd do _SONG NAME_. The solos in that one are _killer_."

* * *

It's all that Rom can talk about for nearly a week. Not that Shuu can blame him, of course. It's been practically all that he's been able to think about; he's just trained at keeping his mouth shut.

Rom has no such compunctions, and starts babbling almost as soon as he bursts through the door before homeroom.

"I wouldn't've thought you like music so much." 

That's not _quite_ the truth of it. Shuu has always had vague ideas of his plan, his ultimate goal: but in a darkened room stuffed full with twenty thousand other people, Shuu had felt something about that desire crystalize into something he could define.

He wants to know what that kind of power feels like.

He wants to stand on a stage and yell _are you ready_ and hear thousands of throats shrieking that they are, that they can't wait another millisecond for his presence. He wants to be be a part of the best night of other people's lives. He wants to spark that same feeling that he felt inside his chest and in every single stranger roaring around him.

But he doesn't tell Rom those things. Between his heart and his mouth, a certain amount of translation and simplification happens, and what comes out is: "Of course I do! I'm gonna front the most popular band in the universe!" Shuu says it smugly, throwing a peace sign in for good measure.

Unexpectedly, Rom's eyes light up. "Oh shit, yeah? You don't think that's a little too ambitious?"

"Hmmm…" Shuu pretends to think for a second, tapping an index finger against his chin. "You're right… Maybe just the galaxy."

"You know… I've actually been saving up for a drum set." He snatches a spare pen from the top of his desk and taps the surface in a brief tattoo. It's only a few beats, before he flips one and catches it out of the air, gesturing across the aisle at Shuu. "And you can't just be a bland pop face."

… Well. There goes _that_ plan percolating behind Shuu's brainstem. "Why not? I _said_ most popular. Pop music has that name for a reason, you know. It's because -- you'll never guess this one -- it's _popular_."

"Whaaaaat? Ugh." Rom balks, apparently unimpressed by this logic. "Is that all that matters to you? You dirty sellout! What would the King say!"

"Won't know until we have enough clout to tour with him, will we?" Allowing himself a smile, Shuu leans forward and props his chin on the heel of his palm. He can see the wheels in Rom's head turn as he pauses. "But, well. Let's not get _too_ ahead of ourselves." 

It would probably come off as creepy to tell Rom that he'd already included him in nearly every variation he's projected so far.


End file.
